The House
by Belthizor
Summary: One man's actions and the consequent repercussions are reflected in this 'flash back' story about the morals surrounding a life of drugs and crime


Death's Belongings

**The House**

Life is funny. When you least expect it, it will take a sudden twist and you could end up either in the business or else in the House. No one expects to end up in the House. Not Johnny, not Edna, least of all me, yet here I was running. Running from what I did not know. Was it the police? Was it Edna? Or was it something far darker than that? Was I in fact running from myself? Whatever it was, I suddenly found myself on the 665 to Monaco heading to what I hoped was salvation and a place to hide.

It all started when I met Johnny and I joined his gang. It was Johnny who persuaded me to try it. 'Come on' he had said, 'I've tried it, it's good' eventually he had convinced me - peer pressure will win every time you try and fight it - and I ended up doubled over at the end of the night revealing the contents of my stomach to all who would care to see. Johnny stood by and watched as the effects of the marijuana set in. Looking at him I could have sworn I saw his smile falter, but another moment and it was gone, the look of desperateness replaced once again by the wicked smile that became of him.

_Who could like this stuff_ I thought as I lit up another joint, _who could like the bittersweet taste of a fresh rolled marijuana rolled cigarette?_ That question like many others had got me stumped. Nevertheless, as with all my questions, I resolved not to let it bother me. I looked at my watch, _nearly there_, I thought. I was heading off to Barb's place. _Good old Barb she'll know what to do, she always did._ What exactly had forced me to run in the first place?

I recalled the event exactly as it had happened that fateful night. Johnny and his gang, myself included, were revelling in our regular bout of harmless vandalism at tonight's target - Crouch's Gas Station. We never meant for what happened to happen, our main objective was just to create a bit of mischief - graffiti the toilet walls with JOHNNY WAS 'ERE '93 and some other obscene statements, we also dabbled a bit in the vandalism of the gas pumps and also some shoplifting. We never meant any real harm; we certainly didn't look it, well maybe except Pete. Pete was the kind of guy who had that dead set look about him; Pete had been There. He had been in the House and he had no intentions of doing so again. It wasn't until the untimely arrival of Police Constable Clark Ford that things really started to fall apart. If Ford hadn't felt the need to duck down to Crouch's for a few last minute supplies before the well publicised Police Christmas party then he wouldn't have been shot.

When Ford arrived, he happened to see us in the midst of our vandalising spree and instinctively reached for the police two-way radio to report us. Unfortunately for us as much as him, Pete had had a little too much alcohol that night and his blatant dislike of the law surprised us all when Pete produced a .44 he had obviously been concealing and fired three shots into Ford's head and then two shots into the now cowering teenager on night duty. Much to our misfortune, Ford had still been holding the two-way radio and the shots were heard by all at the Police Station putting them on high alert. That was when we decided to split in an effort to avoid the police.

It was only a matter of time before the police caught up with Pete but he was not to go down so easily. Pete had said before that he would rather die then end up in the House and that was just what had happened. Pete, caught up in the exhilaration of the moment shouted out that he would never go back, put the .44 up to his right temple and pulled the trigger ending it all right then and there. Johnny was the next to be caught but compared with Pete, Johnny was an easy catch – he was to be found throwing up in a ditch by the side of the road. Apparently, the site of a human's brain leaking out of their skull was too much for him.

I was last on the list, but by now their was no hope of catching me, _ha, ha, the law hasn't caught up with me yet_ the little voice at the edge of my mind exclaimed. Finally, I arrived at Barb's place. If anyone could get me out of this mess, it was Barb and thankfully, she was home. Once inside I related the whole story about what had happened, my addiction to the drugs, my meeting Johnny, and my involvement with the murder of Clark Ford. I don't know why I told Barb these things, but Barb was very patient throughout the whole time and at the end of it she offered me a drink "to calm my nerves", I accepted. It wasn't until I had finished the drink that I realized my mistake - Barb had drugged me without me even noticing, too late I realized that Barb was on "their" side.

And so I ended up right where I thought I would not - the House. I guess when we think about it there really is no right or wrong just the civil injustices that this world can thrust at you. Life is really a swirling vortex of mixed emotions - hate, anger, fear, lust - that swallows you up like a toad does a fly without you even noticing until you are at the bur banks of hell almighty itself. The truth is right under noses and we don't even realize. Hell isn't that far away at all, it is, after all just a part of us - a normal day in the lives of men too foolish to savour life and freedom. Just a normal part of a day in the lives of men.


End file.
